


Small Universe

by SleepEatRead



Category: HarryPotter - Fandom, Silmarillion
Genre: F/M, Immortality, Rape, Sexual/Adult themes, Torture, Tragedy, War, dark matter, eventual love, wizarding war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-05-17 02:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5850931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepEatRead/pseuds/SleepEatRead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an obscure but sinister force threatens to conquer the Wizarding world, Nebula Orion, a shunned ministry worker from a disgraced family, seeks to bring her family name back to it's full glory by taking it up upon herself to figure out the source of the dark matter. The dark matter, while threatening her life on more than one occasion, leads her to another place where a a war takes place in it's finest form; bloody and merciless. Nebula is torn between two motives; survive and try to find a way home, or find the dark matter and defeat it after having got so far. But those options seem to be out of question when she is held as 'prisoner' by a deranged war-lord.</p><p>©2016 @SleepEatRead Corporation. All Rights Reserved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 0.1: A/N

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story will be rated 'M', meaning dark themes, adult content and the package, though I try not to use swearing as it grates on my nerves. Most of my works will be rated such.
> 
> Disclaimer: This work is based purely for personal, imaginative purposes; all personal, fan-based creativity is credited to their respective authors. Credit is where credit is due. No copyright infringement is needed.
> 
> ©2016 @SleepEatRead Corporation. All Rights Reserved.

**_ Warning: _ **

**~** This story contains material content from Author J.R.R. Tolkien's Silmarillion and J.K. Rowling' Harry Potter. If you are not familiar with one or either, this story would not be advised to you.

 **~** This story is Alternate Universe material, and sometimes my story won't adhere to the actual universes because it is based on fanfiction. A lot of things will be different but the general plot won't.

 **~** This story's content belongs to its respective author(s), any other original and creative characters or additional works belong to me. Credit is where credit is due.

~Plagarism is capital punishment.

 

*~*~*~*

**_Content: _ **

**-** Sexual themes

 **-** Blood and Violence.

-Dark themes.

A Little Character Bio:

~My character, to me, needs to look like an outcast because that is the main idea of the story: an outcast making a name for themselves. In the wizarding world, white hair is a sign of dark magic (not a true fact but...fanfiction, right?) so that outcasts her even more than usual. She is an albino, and if you read up, albino people are lacking in melanin, iron, and are prone to skin cancers because of their rare coloring and the faults in their genes. So regardless of how appealing this coloring might seem, it is unhealthy. My character's features are slightly gaunt (sharp) but our beautiful Dany is originally a lot healthier-looking, so I found this painting. Let's face it, albinos don't have delightfully dark and filled-in eyebrows. Their eyebrows are white like their hair so let it be known, my character has white eyebrows and like any person who likes to make use of their feature-enhancing products (I mean make up), she can fill them in if she wants. As for her body: search up either Danaerys Targaryen or Emilia Clarke, whatever fits your bill.

 

 

~As for Maedhros in _The Silmarillion_ , well it is hard to imagine him. But according to Tolkien, he is considered one of the tallest of the Eldar of the first age besides Elu Thingol of Doriath (who is _dubiously_ 9'ft tall), who is the tallest person ever in the Tolkien world. I could put him as just  over 7'ft because I don't want him to be too tall (the average height for elves is _dubiously_ 6'4)." _Maedh_ "- in Sindarin means " _Shapely_ " so one can say that he is well-endowed in masculinity and is better-looking than average for someone of the Eldar.  " _Ros_ " means " _Red-Haired_ " in Sindarin, so I would say in this story his hair would be waist-length and slightly layered, and the undeniable feature, red hair (although it is edging more on Auburn). There is literally no actor who can play Maedhros. I also imagine Maedhros with hair green eyes, and according to Tolkien, all the Eldar-elves who have seen the light of the Two Trees had glowing eyes. So his eyes are green and they glow abnormally. Here is a little helper to imagine:

 

 

 

P.S. I am not a gifted Linguist so I will try not to use the language Tolkien invented, I am already struggling with the languages I use, lol. Also, I am not well versed in his world, so do try to help me along if I make a mistake. Also, the artwork, photography, or pictures are _NOT_ mine. They are just helpers to imagine. I find it really helpful and I hope you do too. 


	2. Chapter 1: The Dark Matter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The main protagonist, Nebula is introduced, so is her living style and the beginnings of her journey.

 

Nebula walked stiffly past Mr. Ramsey, her head held high as she looked up at him with a hint of defiance, Mr. Ramsey shot her a filthy look. Nebula was technically only a secretary under him, but Nebula never met anyone with a greater superiority complex.

"Why are you here?" he asked coldly.

"I am supposed to be here," Nebula said, slowly counting down from ten, anything to keep her from hexing the old buffoon. He was a rather tiresome bloke.

A smirk started to make its way on his red, blotchy face; he would have been considered handsome, had it not been for the hex that a random joker outside of the ministry had sent to him, via owl; an envelope filled with gooey, brown mud-like substance that exploded in his face and caused him an unfortunate allergic reaction that affected mostly his face. Perhaps also it would improve if he lost that rather large pot-belly. Still, whatever he lacked physically, he made up for in style. 

Mr. Ramsey is apparently was convinced it was her. But really, it could have been anyone; Mr. Ramsey wasn't exactly the best flavor of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans. He was in his late forties with a habit of bringing slags to his office behind his wife's back and much to Nebula's displeasure, right behind her workplace. He gambled and cheated, his whole life wasted away with a horrible attitude.

"Since when?" he asked, an ugly scowl taking over his blistered face.

"Since Mrs. Weasly instructed me to deliver those files,” she said coldly, a smug sort of satisfaction making its way onto her face.

She wasn't the best-flavored bean in the pack either. After the war nineteen years ago, her father had been sentenced to life in Azkaban for his war crimes and his association with dark magic and the main villain of the war, Lord Voldemort. Not that she ever did love the sodding bloke, he was a horrible excuse for a father and husband. H gambled away all his money, went into debt and then into hiding from the Dark Lord until he was caught by one of the members of the Order(after the war ended). At least, from what her mother told her. Mr. Ramsey was exactly the man her father would have been, only, less inclined to dark magic and pure-blood superiority (just workplace superiority).

This ultimately ruined her place in the Wizarding society. Nebula was barely a year-old when the war ended. The details of Nebula's conception are shady because Lyra, her mother, never loved her husband. But one could guess.

Mr. Ramsey spluttered, his face growing redder. He cleared his throat imperiously; "I can do that, you may go."

"Mrs. Weasly specifically instructed me to do so; surely you would not contradict her word?" Nebula asked, her attitude really wasn't working in her favor, Nebula knew that, but his face was worth it. She never respected him anyways and he was in no position to fire her. Despite what the idiot may think, he wasn't as important as he thought.

"No," he said, flushing purple around his neck.

 _Thought so_ , she mentally sniped at him. She gave him a grim smirk and quickly got her business done, not able to stand another moment in that man's presence.

*~*~*~*

Nebula apparated back to her apartment that she shared with her mother, she lived in a 14-story apartment building, on the thirteenth floor with two more Wizarding families, who, despite their similar financial state, managed to make her feel self-conscious. It is rare to see a pure-blooded family living in a state of poverty and even worse, to have white hair. 

The apartment she shared with her mother wasn't impressive. A small living room, as elegantly furnished as they could afford, a little sofa set, a little bookshelf, and some homely decorations. Next came a shared washroom, with a sink counter piled with toiletries and makeup, a little, stuffed kitchen with their only prized bit in the house; a notable China cutlery set that they never used but her mother insisted they purchase from the muggle Good Will store. A small room sat next to the toilet, barely 2x2 where they stored their cleaning supplies, fresh bed sheets, and pillowcases.

Then there was the room she shared with her mother. The room was practically split in half, on her side of the room (the window side) was a small, neatly made bed with a lamp stand next to it and a little cupboard with magically expanded interiors where she could store her precious books that she collected ever since she discovered she could read. Then, at the foot of her bed was her worn Hogwarts trunk sat, filled with her underwear and more personalized products.

Her mother's side was practically the same, but Nebula never bothered to snoop. Lyra never snooped, so Nebula didn't either. Across from them was a walk-in closet that was about the length of their bedroom but very narrow, where they stored their clothes (which they shared as they are both practically the same size).

Nebula almost collapsed on the bed but resisted. She reluctantly shed off her witch's robes and shed them in the hamper, putting on her house robes.

Despite Lyra's denial, Nebula knew that her mother was bitter about this life. Nebula never knew luxury and Lyra was bitter about that. Nebula would be too if her own child wouldn't ever get to experience what she experienced. Nebula wasn't as bitter over what she never had. But Lyra had taken it personally.

 

*~*~*~*

"Did you hear?" Nebula heard and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes, Alisa and Marianne, the two secretaries at the Department of Magical Control were far-fetched storytellers, who were the ultimate source of rumors. Nevertheless, it was quite entertaining to listen to them.

"What?" Alisa asked, her interest piqued as she looked at her friend. Nebula, against her wishes, looked at them from the corner of her eyes. 

"Ernie," Marianne began, her voice taking on a higher pitch at the mention of her lover, "he works at the Department of Mysteries, by the way, identified a sort of matter in one of the doors."

_Wasn't that information supposed to be private?_

"What type?" Alisa demanded, this definitely caught Nebula's interest.

"He wouldn't say, but whatever it was it rattled his wand a bit, he looked a bit ashy," Marianne said thoughtfully, tapping her chin with a long, perfectly-filed, red nail. _As if he battled a giant snake,_ Nebula thought viciously, resisting the urge to scoff and roll her eyes.

"Doors-- in the department of mysteries?" Alisa mewled with ill-concealed excitement. 

"Yes, doors, apparently that is what is in there, he wouldn't say anything else, top secret he said. Doesn't say much about his work," Marianna sighed, sitting back and crossing her legs over the other. 

"I heard the department of mysteries is a rather classified branch in the Ministry," Alisa said thoughtfully and Nebula agreed. Alisa would have been a great friend if her love of groveling and gossip didn't overtake her. 

 _Of course, it is_ , Nebula thought, it was one of the most restricted branches of the Ministry of Magic. It was really hard to get a spot in it. Nebula had originally tried for a position in it but she wasn't accepted, her magical abilities were apparently; "Impressive on a large scale, but too uncontrolled." She hadn't passed the test to begin an apprenticeship in that particular branch. Whatever was in the department of mysteries was highly classified, it was more restricted than the military secrets of the entire Wizarding world, and it was one of the most dangerous branches in the Wizarding Ministries around the world, being the only one.

"Miss Orion, have you anything to say?" Marianne snapped. The leech hated Nebula, even though she was in her late forties, she didn't look a day above thirty. Marianne was an over-achiever, especially when she was the lover of a man like Mr. Ernie Stoneware. She was rich, spoiled and an absolute air-head.

"I have nothing to say," Nebula said, flushing with embarrassment at being caught listening-in and scoffing.

"But I heard you a cough, are you alright my dear?" her high-pitched, honey-laced voice grated on Nebula's nerves.

"Peachy Mrs. Goldberg. A minor case, nothing a cough drop won't handle. Though I must inquire, is that a new set of Witch's robes? The latest in fashion no less! What a lovely shade of red..." Nebula said, her eyes tearing up at the sight of the shockingly bright red set of robes, which were too frivolous for a workplace environment, in such a low position no less. It was almost painful to look at.

"Oh yes, Mrs. Couturier got the fabric brand from Paris fashions, fixed it up herself. I must say, it was worth the price. Though nothing you can afford I am sure," Marianne made a little move with her shoulders, as though to laugh the same way the women did in those old movies. Nebula mentally rolled her eyes but her eyes continued to listlessly scan the documents before her. 

Leave it up to Marianne Goldberg to insult Nebula at any given moment. Alisa next to her snickered. Alisa was a young, pretty woman who would have been tolerable if she did not idolize Marianne the whole time, following her around like a lost puppy, hanging on to her every word. Nebula made a mock-laughing face to Alisa when Marianne wasn't looking. Childish, Nebula was aware, but Alisa wasn't mature enough to understand the biting sarcasm that Nebula was capable of delivering.

Instead of replying to Marianne, Nebula grit her teeth and gave Marianne a strained smile when really, she already killed the blasted woman ten times over in her head.

*~*~*~*

It seemed everyone was talking about the dark power source that was found in the Department of Mysteries. This gave some truth Marianne’s word, which Nebula would trust as far as she could spit. At first, Nebula was surprised that it had become such a hot topic and was almost convinced that Marianna had spread her poison. Until she heard the people from the inside the Department of mysteries talk about it.

The people got more nervous, less temperate as the days passed and Nebula noticed the change, not only for everyone but for herself, as well. It was as though an invisible fog of something fell above the heads of the people. Whatever this fog was, it wasn't making anything better.

There was no solid evidence that it was due to the Dark matter. But Nebula could feel the energy pulse within the ministry, and it left Nebula drained when she exited the building. This matter was dark indeed. Nebula had dared a few walks down past the hall of the Department of Mysteries, occasionally watching a few, worn wizards walking into the door with great reluctance, their faces pale and ashen. At one point she heard a loud series of blasts that alarmed her when she walked down the hall.

This matter put everyone on edge, including Nebula.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some helpful links:
> 
> http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Main_Page
> 
> http://lotr.wikia.com/wiki/Main_Page


	3. Chapter 2: Lack of Tact.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is revealed and suddenly, everything squares down to one choice. A chance that Nebula grasps at. It leads her to the seemingly inevitable doom.

 

"So, how was work today?" Lyra asked, primly sipping her tea, it was one of those rare days that Nebula and Lyra spent the day off. Nebula's eyes dragged to her mother's weathered hands, that would have once been pale, smooth, and beautiful. Life as a laundress in a muggle store was tough on smooth hands.

"Unexciting," Nebula said flatly.

Lyra's brows shot up, her mother was no fool, even though she didn't know her daughter like the back of her hand. She knew when her daughter was lying, Lyra seemed to have the uncanny ability to detect a lie from anyone.

"Really?" she asked, sipping her tea in that elegant way that Nebula almost envied. Lyra was raised in high-class society, and she inflicted table manners and etiquette on Nebula so she was no stranger. Even during her days at Hogwarts, Lyra found a way to teach Nebula her table manners and good habits.

"Yes," Nebula said, then, she retraced her verbal steps hesitantly. "Well, almost, there have been rumors."

"Since when did you believe in rumours--let me take a guess--" her mother stopped briefly, setting her cup down on her plate and setting it on the table, neatly folding her hands on her lap, her back straightening and her face taking on a delicate frown "--Marianne's word is circulating."

"Well, for the most part," Nebula admitted then she hesitated, "It's in the Department of Mysteries."

Now that caught Lyra's attention, "Department of Mysteries?" she echoed. "Marianne Goldberg spreading rumors about the Department of Mysteries?! She is dumber than I thought," Lyra made certain her feelings were known in matters concerning her old, Debutante and Hogwarts rival.

"Well, she got it from her lover--Ernie Stoneware--" Nebula paused when she saw Lyra's face, squinted with displeasure.

"Do not use that word in that house, that vile word," her mother sniffed in disdain, "but do continue."

"Well, she said that there has been a sort of dark matter..." Nebula trailed off, "It's been affecting everyone in the ministry lately, it makes everything intolerable and I tried walking past the hall of Department of Mysteries, and mum-- I felt it."

"Felt it?" her mother echoed, looking at her with disquiet, her brown eyes quickly scanning Nebula.

"Yes, and it didn't feel good," Nebula inhaled and exhaled, the familiar feeling washing through her bones, "I felt bad for the ones who work in the Department of Mysteries."

"Why?" Lyra asked, getting up and refilling their teacups. The gesture was oddly comforting. Usually it was Nebula who refilled the cups, not the other way around. It was Lyra's way of saying Nebula could say whatever she wanted.

"They looked sort of apprehensive, entering there--" Nebula continued.

"Nebula Andromeda Orion, have you been spying?" her mother burst, still elegant in her ire.

"No, but I got a little curious so I walked down the hall of Department of Mysteries, I watched the ones who work there enter the hall, I never actually went inside but I felt it." Nebula hurried to explain. This was harder to express than Nebula thought it would be. normally, her mother is an easy woman to talk to. Despite their less-than-perfect relationship, Lyra was more of a best friend than a mother. Her young looks don't make it easier.

"How did it feel like?" her mother asked, her demeanor softening.

"Well, I don't know how to describe, it. I don't know what evil feels like, but if I had a word for that feeling I would describe it as sinister. It felt cold and angry, so full of hate, and it filled me with hate too." Nebula could barely string a proper sentence together to describe what this thing felt like. But her mother seemed to understand. her face was grim and ashen.

Her mother stayed silent for a moment, Nebula watched her. Her mother's word was law, and if anyone would listen, they would admire her wisdom. Lyra bred patience, intelligence, and elegance in Nebula, but her wisdom is something Nebula didn't think she would ever fully acquire.

"It is my best interest and yours for certain to stay away from that place, but you are a grown woman, I can't tell you what to do. You are better safe than sorry," Lyra said demurely. 

Brown eyes met pale, green eyes.

*~*~*~*

Nebula was never usually one to disregard advice, especially from her sage mother. Yet the days passed and slowly, the rumors were starting to confirm themselves. Three civil brawls erupted today and for no reason at all, the sinister feeling tricking down Nebula's spine. Dark thoughts swirling in her mind, hallucinations... Chaos soon appeared in the form of the Minister of Magic; Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"It is not advised to hide the truth no matter how blatant it may be, save your questions till the end, there is time for that," the Prime Minister said, standing at the dais, the every head of department standing with him, the majority looking at him with disapproval, as the press took photos and held out their wands, recording Kingsley Shacklebolt's word. His words were powerful, and when he spoke, his deep, rumbling voice commanded the silence of the everybody in this room, even (shocking) Marianne and Alisa's.

"That mistake has been repeated too many times, the truth must be addressed, no matter how painful and in turn, we ask for your composed behavior for the time being while our experts work to solve this mystery and--yes-- ominous mystery."

A gasp rippled through the hall, and for a moment the room was confused with apprehensive and nervous voices.

"Please," Kingsley's voice boomed, "be calm. Yes, ominous it is. It is a dark, unidentified matter that we are all trying to dissect, but it is near impossible to do so. It is yet unclear and therefore, unsafe to tamper with. As I am sure you have heard, one of our head workers in the Department of Mysteries, Jozeph Niro, disappeared a few weeks ago, while on duty to figure out the source of this dark matter.

"It is no secret what the cause is, it is that infestation that is slowly expanding, it is hard to control, we have no further information of this source and until then, we implore you to keep calm and collected while we figure this out."

"What if it eats us all by the time we figure it out!" a voice shouted from the multitude. Soon enough angry protests and accusations erupted, the crowd moving forwards towards Shacklebolt, the guards blocking their way angrily. It was awful.

Nebula stood there frozen in place, the voice drowning out, a shrill sound blasting in her ears as she stared blankly at Shacklebolt's retreating figure and the hundred other Heads of Departments following him.

Everything blurred around Nebula.

*~*~*~*

Nebula didn't know how she managed to apparate back home safely. Her mind was in too much turmoil, it is a surprise she didn't get splinched.

Her mother was waiting for her, tears in her eyes, running down her face, clutching the Daily Prophet in her shaking hands. When Nebula dragged her feet into the apartment, she stared blankly at her mother.

"Did you hear?" Nebula asked numbly.

"Yes--oh Merlin-- yes" Lyra's voice cracked, even in her distress, she was still beautiful. "Stupid--scatter brained minister--Kingsley!" her talk was incoherent, but Nebula assumed she was cursing Shaklebolt for his lack of tact.

"You heard about the worker-Jozeph Niro--?"

"Oh--yes, sweet Merlin--yes" Lyra said, her facade crumbling.

If that is how her own mother felt, then Nebula was pretty sure this was serious; she waited for her mother to calm down. Nebula couldn't imagine why her mother would be so distressed. Right now, it didn't seem like such a big deal. It was life altering...but perhaps there was still some form of trauma. Nebula can't be sure.

"I--I must admit, I do not enjoy speaking of such dark times, but this reminds me just of the war--" her mother burst into sobs, sliding from her couch seat and onto her knees. That confirmed nebula's suspicions.

Locks of Lyra's pale, beautiful hair fell in front of her face and Lyra covered her face with her hands, her sobs loud and blood-freezing.

"M-mum," Nebula stuttered, startled at this...display of emotion, especially from her mother.

"GO--" she shrieked, pointing towards the bedroom door "--leave me alone--please," her voice softened.

Nebula got up and retreated to her room. Her mother never lost her cool, sure she had nightmares, but she never reacted so strongly. Perhaps such declaration made her resolve crumble, bringing back old memories.

*~*~*~*

Nebula's feet dragged on the way to her office, there wasn't the usual hum of life in the ministry, everyone's feet were dragging, it has been several weeks since Shacklebolt's declaration and everybody felt the effects, fear, hate, and suspicion flowed through the body, everyone in a while a fight would break out and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it before it was too late.

But no. As Nebula looked at an uncharacteristically silent Marianne and her nervous assistant, Nebula felt a growing pulse of hatred within her. It was no secret that Marianne was once a lover of a particularly high-ranking death-eater in the war. She was a power-hungry pauper...she was everything her mother should have been, is not, and never will be. Lyra is a gentlewoman, with a heart of gold. But there was a bitterness within her, bred from the actions of her estranged husband. Lyra should have been wearing silks, not scrubs. She should be lounging on a luxurious sofa, not on a flea-infested couch. Everything that her mother deserved belonged to Marianne Goldberg. 

Nebula shook her head. What an awful train of thought. Nebula never envied Marianne, why start now? And how could Nebula begrudge Marianne her actions, and envy her so? Marianne was spoiled in more ways than one and extremely dependent. She was a snake and a poor excuse of a witch. There was no reason to envy the lesser. Where did this train of thought come from?

_Honor..._

*~*~*

Nebula stared at the dull little green purse, the fanciest she owned.

" _Capacious extremis_ " she whispered. Nothing happened at first but slowly, she began charming all her clothing, books, personal toiletries, and all her belonging into that little bag. The bag didn't expand a bit.

She closed the little bag and cast a wordless, weight loss charm on it. She picked it up and took one last look at her room, this was illegal.

This was also the hardest thing she had ever done.

She walked downstairs to the kitchen, where her mother was cooking, her beautiful figure and her long hair permanently embedded into Nebula's memory.

She took out her wand and, with a heavy heart, pointed it at her mother.

" _Obliviate_ " she whispered.

*~*~*~*

_Lyra Orion; Nebula's mother:_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick question, what methods of torture do orcs use?


	4. Chapter 3: Strange Light.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula bravely faces the consequences of her decision, but after coming so close, she moved too far.

 

Nebula walked through the dark hallways of the Ministry; her wand that illuminated a bright light was her only guide. The Ministry was heavily guarded and there was only so much an invisibility charm could do before she was found out. After weaving her way through the maze of corridors, Nebula finally arrived at the black door, insignificant to any muggle but it was of dire importance in the Wizarding world.

Nebula tapped her wand on the door handle; " _Alohamora._ "

The door, much to her relief, clicked open. The ministry was less armed than she expected...or was it how it was meant to be? A trap maybe? But no...Nebula had to keep going. 

What she saw next took her by surprise.

Doors, hundreds of them and Nebula's heart sank. Perhaps this was not such a good idea. How would one know which was to go? There was so many of them. Or was this meant to trick the intruder?

 _No_ , she thought, _you need to go on, you decided it, you went this far, continue._

_But I didn't decide this--_

_You did!_

_No--_

_Continue._

Nebula swallowed and took her first step, the ominous feeling was strong and it surrounded her like a blanket. She could practically see the dense air and it struck fear in her heart. Nebula seriously considered turning back--

A small light at the end of the hallways stopped her at her tracks, it was a square outline, and Nebula presumed it was a door

The closer she walked the stronger the ominous feeling got. The walk to the door seemed to stretch forever until finally, she reached the door and with a quick wave of her wand and a mutter of ' _Alohamora_ '. The door clicked and very slowly, it opened on its own accord.

Much to her dismay, the door started moving farther away from her and Nebula jogged to catch up. No there was a bit of a challenge. Would it ever stop moving? Already, the door was squiggling around. Before long, Nebula found herself short of breath.

" _Immobulous,_ " Nebula cried, pointing her wand and the door, which suddenly froze. 

When the door actually started to open, the light almost blinded her. A gush of wind blew the hair from her face and Nebula was more shocked than awed. How could something so beautiful be so evil? The light was bright and it danced around the center like a halo, it was beautiful. There was no other way to describe it.

 

 

 

As if in a trance, Nebula stepped forward, mildly surprised that she didn't fall in the black abyss, she reached out towards the light and as if reaching out for her too, the light extended to her hand, engulfing it slightly. It felt wet.

Slowly, the light traveled past her hand and up her arm, Nebula was vaguely aware of her entire body starting to burn.

*~*~*~*~*

Nebula opened her eyes, albeit a bit groggily. A blare was sounding in her ears, loud and obnoxious, the air felt heavy but clear and she was by no means warm.  She took in her surroundings.

This whole...ecosystem--was something of a dream, bad or good, it was a mystery to Nebula.

The place was a sort of setting that gave off the vibe of abandonment. It was a mountainous area of some sort, with little patches of snow drizzled all over, a few pine trees here and there, lichens on rocks and little flowers that seemed to give a meagre beauty to the doleful place. It sounded normal enough, but something about with was just not quite right, it gave a sort of tingling in the fingers, it made the heart beat more prominently, like a setting on a muggle-movie poster.

Nebula stumbled to her feet, checking to see if all her belongings were still intact and her wand was still on her person. Everything was there, but--her clothes weren't.

The force of the shock hit her hard; the clothes on her person were not hers. They were not like anything she has ever seen.  They were something she would see on a Broadway show or a muggle film. She felt as though she were in a dream.

Upon Nebula's person was a long white gown that rippled and flowed with movement. Although unfortunately, despite it’s many, satin and chiffon layers, it didn't do much to conceal her from the cold. The sleeves were odd and bell-shaped too. But the only thing that made an effort to keep her warm was her over-cloak, dark navy and long, to her ankles; it also came with a hood, which was nice. Her shoes, _oh, what a pain they were_ , they were definitely not made for the chill. _They were slippers_. 

Nebula cast a warming charm on her cloak and shoes, feeling that this will suffice for now. It seemed to be getting colder here...no that she moved her head around, something felt _odd_.

Her limbs felt wrong. Looking down at her feet, they seemed to be a long way down, and her hair was, if anything, whiter than ever and it reached down to her shins in loose curls. _Her shins_...where did all that length come from? The abnormal length of her hair made her recoil, was this really her hair? She reached up to touch a tendril that had escaped from it's tamed...feel.

Then she stopped. Her hand...was small? Long? Large? _Hers_? What?

Was this her skin? Her skin, as if it wasn't pale enough, was even paler, like polished ivory and pink in all the right places. This was wrong; everything about her was too vivid.

Nebula wandered around for a moment, coming to stop at a puddle that had been frozen. Nebula hastily cast a melting charm and observed her reflection... _was this her_?

Her hair was all one length now, no choppiness or bangs. Her features were sharper and plumper in the right places. Her eyes were more...pigmented, they were wider, more sultry. Nebula even spied a bit of violet in her pale eyes. Speaking of which...what is up with her vision? Something about her eyes made her shiver. The light in them was familiar, and it was not the good type of familiar.

The only thing she liked about her face were her eyebrows, which were still thick and groomed-- and her lashes, which were still dark and long, their thickness had not faded. _If anything_ , her lashes were even more vivid.

Why was she suddenly so beautiful? All her life she wished she was beautiful and now...now it felt wrong, now that she was beautiful. This beauty was all wrong. Nebula did not want it, this was not her. Nebula quickly shook her head; she had other matters to worry about. A glow up and a change of clothes were the least of her worries right now. Now that she no longer felt obligated to...seek restoration to her family's name...she felt lost.

What had convinced her to go through with this idiocy? Was she even in her right mind when she thought of anything? _Where is she?_

The sky was not blue...it was red, even when it was cloudy...it was the red of a sunset. But it didn't feel like a sunset. The features of this place seemed odd, misplaced...strange. It can't have been anywhere on Earth.

Maybe she was on Earth, just a really underrated place...

She forced herself to move forward. If she didn't move forward, how would she find out where she is if she didn't get a move on? Hopefully, she is not the only one and there is someone around here to ask for directions and answers. 

Nebula walked on and on, and the scenery seemed to stretch on for hours, not even changing once.

It was starting to get extremely unnerving. Even when the reality of the situation hadn't begun to settle in. In her confusion and befuddlement, Nebula completely forgot about what she was doing here. Where is her wand? _Oh_ , it's in her hand...is her bag still with her? Probably... _oh there it is_.

Nebula could feel a migraine coming along. 

But pretty soon, she came face to face with a dense, pine forest, not the best path to tread in, unless one wanted to get pine needles all over themselves.But she is a witch, Nebula reminded herself irritably, that is why she had a wand, _that hopefully worked..._

Nebula mentally cast a spell that created a path and to her utter relief, it worked, and it worked better than Nebula hoped for. She almost cried tears of joy and gratitude...hadn't she just melted a puddle a while ago? Did this place affect her memory?

What was this place? Why was everything so vivid and distinct? This place was wrong, her very existence here was wrong and slowly, it dawned unto her that she was no longer on Earth. Even the air was clear and her senses were sharper. She was no longer herself.

 _Walk,_ Nebula thought to herself, _if you stay in one place, you will get nowhere._

_Walk._

Nebula walked for hours, stopping to scoop patches of ice and transfigure into drinkable water, picking raw berries from bushes, praying to Merlin that they were not poisonous, even setting traps for some squirrels, birds, and pheasants with great difficulty, even with her magic. Nebula always considered herself a reasonable cook, but without seasoning, even her cooking skills couldn't save her taste buds.

It was almost four days before Nebula reached the river and came across signs of life to communicate with.

Unfortunately for her, _they were not the friendliest._


	5. Chapter 4: Grievous mistakes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula gets captured by creatures of the dark of which she is not able to identify. She learns, the hard way, that those creatures are not the friendly type.

Nebula's biggest mistake was her big mouth. She was never sociable, but she was never subtle either, her voice was always loud, it was just the way she was. When she spoke, her voice was loud and clear. Her diction articulate and her manners blunt.

But it didn't matter; it was what she did that mattered. She was walking along a rather broad river next to the tree line of a rather dense forest that Nebula loathed entering, chewing on some berries when she came across raucous howls, laughter and snarls. 

It was the first sign of danger, one that she very stupidly missed. Snarling and howls, no matter how human they sounded, were a glaring sign of danger. But Nebula was so starved of human interaction that her brain stopped working, her feet quickly took her, her mouth opening and her voice flowed out, high and sweet; "Hello?" 

It was only when she caught sight of the source of undesirable noise that the grievous error of her mistake dawned unto her. 

It was a large...group...of hideous and unorthodox creatures with a foul stench that Nebula slapped herself for not smelling so far away. Just what they are was an assault on her senses and she recoiled slightly, her body refused to respond. Their skin was ashy black, their bodies bent and deformed, and their eyes were an unmistakable yellow that one only saw on cats. They wore a type of heavy armor of some sorts and their mouths were a pit of fangs and black, dripping...black liquid. They had the blackish liquid splashed all over them, and-- _blood_ , lots of it. She could smell the stench of decay from here and the more she was aware of it the more it was unbearable.

Only after they were ten feet away from her did she finally come back to her senses and forced her paralyzed legs to run the opposite direction. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough.

A few paces on her run, her hair was viciously grabbed and she was thrown to the floor. There was a lot of screaming, Nebula was only vaguely aware of what was happening. She was still recovering from her shock.

A sharp tug on her dress brought her back to her senses, Nebula managed to grab her wand and she snarled;

 _"Impedimenta!"_ she shrieked, the creature was blasted off its feet but two more seemed to come in its place. Nebula managed to hurl some deadly spells at the creatures, effectively decapitating most of them, allowing her a chance to escape. Her mouth was moving and yet her mind was still in a horrifying state of paralysis.

 _"Diffindo!"_ she shrieked when she heard their bulky footsteps come too close for her liking, to her satisfaction, a near-deafening squeal sounded behind her.

A black arrow whizzed past her, narrowly missing her ear. _"Reducto!"_ she snarled, waving her wand behind her, a deafening blast almost knocking her off her feet, but Nebula kept running, her heart pounding painfully in her chest.

It felt like her energy was quickly draining. Nebula dared to take a look behind her and saw that they were still behind and to her horror, they were gaining on her. Her gaze caught on a black gash at her shoulder; it must have been from the arrow--

Her body slumped to the ground like a rag doll.

*~*~*~*

The ominous feeling was back again and it felt as if that feeling was literally breathing down her neck, in fact, it was what woke her. That and the intense pain. It was like her blood was bleeding from her skin. That is how much pain that Nebula was feeling right now. It was loud, she was tied up, and it felt like every muscle in her body was stretched a million times, and not mercifully. 

They used knives on her, stabbing her thighs through her dress and dragging the blade down to her knee. They kicked her many times. 

But Nebula fought back to the best of her ability. 

_It was not enough._

It became a daily ritual, the abuse would get worst each time, and it felt as if Nebula would never survive. Her clothes were literally tattered, her bag was god knows where and her wand was embedded deep in her thigh. Nebula kept it there. It was the only place where she knew her wand would never get lost. 

Even when her throat was hoarse, Nebula managed to scream.

 

Nebula was starving, she was getting dragged behind the tail-end of a large, black wolf-like creature that was just as ugly as it's masters.

All of what she was feeling and experiencing were snippets of her weak consciousness. 

*~*

One day, when Nebula opened her eyes she found that they were nowhere to be found. She was left there, lying in a puddle of her own blood, with only tattered pieces of cloth to save her modesty. They must have thought she died. Nebula knew that she would eventually convulse from her injuries, she already has several infections in various places. Thankfully, her wand was still embedded in her thigh, not broken (thank Merlin) but only embedded. It was a grotesque sight.

But the pain was too great for her to think properly. Nebula managed to untie herself from her bonds but even that was such an effort that Nebula had to rest her eyes for a moment.

*~*

Her shoulders and back were sore from the rough treatment and the angle of her bonds but she managed to muster all her energy, grip her wand and yank it from her thigh. It was with great difficulty that Nebula suppressed a shriek of pain, lest they come back. She couldn't think. She could barely see. Her vision kept spotting. 

She almost closed her eyes but she forced them to stay open. 

She managed to cast a few healing spells from what she managed to remember.

 _"Fruella,"_ she whispered at her thigh injuries.

*~* 

Nebula managed to crawl to a puddle that wasn't too far, she levitated the water and made use of what little she had. Nebula hissed when the water made contact with her injuries, tears were streaming down her face and to her horror; a rib was sticking out awkwardly from her torso. She was vaguely aware of a bunch of expletives leaving her mouth.

_Sweet Merlin, have mercy._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming back to my previous question; Celebrian, Elrond's wife, was captured by orcs and Tolkien writes that she was tormented. Did he mean she raped but was unable to write it? Personally, I don't think so because Celebrian didn't fade, she only sailed to the West because she couldn't handle it the aftermath of the torment. If elves were raped, they would fade, and I don't think that even Elrond's vast expertise in healing could heal that kind of trauma. So then again, what type of torture do orcs use?


	6. Chapter 5: Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula slowly recovers from the rough treatment. As she struggles to continue on, she comes across Noldorin scouts led by a tall War Lord.

Nebula managed to _Accio_ her bag back to her, she wasn't exactly rich on supplies, but she knew how to make use of them, she sewed her flesh back together with a rag in her mouth so as to not attract attention. The pain made her black out a few times. Unfortunately, she didn't have a pain numbing potion but she did have a blood replenishing potion. She learned her lesson. 

She learned her lesson. Never let out a sound.

Soon, she was decently patched up. Nebula soon found her courage to resume her...aimless wandering, pondering over her past decisions. How much time had passed since all of this happened? It felt like an eternity had passed. Now she was in the middle of nowhere, with no surroundings that looked remotely familiar to her. 

Was it really wise of her to go on this... a spontaneously ambitious journey for something that could have been left with experts? What even made her do this?

For what, to bring back honor to her family name? This was ridiculous. Honor cannot be restored to a name like theirs. The Orion family may as well have been the lowest scum of all. But how could she not have thought of such a life changing decision? Where was her brain? No, she wasn't thinking. if she was thinking, she wouldn't even have thought to come near that door in the first place. It was the pull that made her do it. 

Nebula forced down the quickly escalating regret and guilt, forcing her feet to move forward and ignoring the dread.

What if no one civil lived on these lands? What if she was the only one of her kind? _What if--_

Nebula forced down her doubts and continued on. Her feet were on fire with splinters, how was she to sleep now? She hadn't thought of a tent, she hadn't thought of food, she hadn't thought of anything. She just jumped into action--she was a witch wasn't she? She had powers, she could easily charm herself into a more comfortable environment, and so to speak, she needed to take a shower and cut her hair. There was a lot that needed to be done. There was also too little energy and too little food.

So Nebula scavenged the forest for a while. What was there to do? Eventually, Nebula found a green spot in the forest. It was warm with a small pond next to it. Nebula managed to erect a tent, cast some protective charms, and managed to recheck her wounds. Some would have to heal manually. Nebula didn't have the resources for them.

Nebula managed to scour for a bunch of rocks and sticks and transfigured them into the essential furniture (a bed, table, chair, cutlery...). It was all very bare and plain and there wasn't anything aesthetically pleasing about her situation. The forest was dark and cold with an ever-growing sense of...darkness that did not sit well with Nebula. it forced her to erect more protection charms. The paranoia was driving her insane.

After Nebula grabbed a pair of scissors she brought along and managed to (awkwardly and quite painfully) cut her excessively long hair, donating the fallen locks to the fire that kept the tent warm. When all that needed to be done at the moment was done, Nebula watched the doleful little fire as the three skinny rabbits she had hunted and skinned, roasted over, their fat feeding the flames. Their fur was precious and was left to dry in front of the fire on a small laundry line. Nebula had managed to patch up that pathetic excuse for a dress and had sewed more layers of fabric on it to make it warmer and more durable. Nebula's sewing was not as amazing as her mother's but it was sturdy. It also kept her busy and it kept her thoughts from wandering into the darker parts.

It all sounded very neat but the magic didn't create it, it only worked with what it was given. So everything was either too small or too shabby. Except for the transfigured furniture. Nebula could work with that. 

Once she was done eating the rabbits that were too hot, and salting the left over for later use, Nebula transfigured a small box into a tub and filled it with water from the snow outside. After scrubbing herself clean, Nebula managed to set up her bed with blankets and pillows before plopping down and sleeping.

Outside, it began to rain.

*~*~*~*

When she opened her eyes the next morning, it almost didn't seem like the morning, it wasn't bright at all and there was no watch to indicate the time for sure.

All that she knew was that there was no way she was on Earth and she didn't know the time zones of this place. Nebula groaned at the headache she had (although admittedly she rested better than she expected) and got up. Looking around, her eyes zeroed in at the water in the bathtub from yesterday and scrunched up her nose in distaste at the gray water(what were those brown things?). She shuddered to think of what was on her. She levitated the tub and threw the water out a good distance away from the tent but within the borders of the magical barriers.No use attracting unwanted attention from what she couldn't see.

Nebula stretched, pleasantly surprised that her wounds had already closed, but were still healing. It was quite a wonderful progress. Her mind briefly flitted around the speed of her healing but she disregarded it. What use was it to ponder over something she literally had no answers to?

Moments later, Nebula heard murmurs of voices and footsteps on twigs, snapping them. Were there more of those creatures? Nebula tentatively poked her head out of the tent, even though her protection charms were still in place. Her fear made her feel unsafe, even behind the barriers of her own protection charms. She strained her ears to listen...the snow, it was muting the sounds but they were unmistakable.

The amount of skill in the stealth of their movement was evident and Nebula stilled, trying to catch the direction of the on comers so that she may glimpse them. She slowly walked out of her tent, watching the dense trees wearily. She could hear her own breath and it was making her nervous.

She heard voices, but they weren't growing or snarling, there seemed to be a more...constant pattern of their speech and it didn't sound like savagery. It was still silent and it seemed like they were making a conscious effort to be silent...it meant that they were near...but where?

But Nebula stayed wary.

She looked vigilantly at the direction of the voices, she spied a small fire growing, and for a while the voices became hushed and then the music started flowing, music she never heard of before: silvery, the type one would hear from a veela.

Who were they? When did they arrive? Did they see her? Was it safe to make herself known to them? How would they react to Nebula's presence?

 


	7. Chapter 6: Encounter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula finally glimpses the scout group and is more or less...taken aback.

Nebula opted for caution. She would learn her lesson this time. Instead, from the entrance of her tent, shivering and wrapped in one of the re-sized furs she had managed to trap, Nebula watched the group of people.

Walking right past her protection barriers as though she did not exist, was a group of 15, grown...men, with really long hair varying shades of dark. Their bodies were well built and long, all wielding swords and knives, some with bows and arrows even. There were intricate designs on their clothing and weapons, the craftsmanship was both meant to awe and harm.

All were dressed in one color; red, and a symbolic star with eight long points. Some had helmets on others didn't, some had more frivolity on, signifying their rank, and some didn't. But one of them stood out from all of them. He was taller than the tallest by a head, and his hair reached his hips in tantalizing, layered waves of autumn colored hair. His hair was beautiful, so unique that no one else had a shade of it in the group, tresses of auburn, amber, orange, and sunset weaved into one fine mane of waves. 

The redhead held up his hand, rough and calloused. Everyone halted. His lips were moving but Nebula couldn't make out a thing. He was talking, she knew that much, but she couldn't really decipher what he was saying.

He tensed, his head tilting in her general direction. Nebula's stomach dropped to her feet. Although he was beautiful, the air sizzled about him in an uninviting way, menacingly warning everyone away. He turned his body fully to her and Nebula gasped. If his back was beautiful then she didn't know what to say to his face. A square face shape with hollow cheeks that accentuated his fine cheekbones, with a chiseled jaw, hooded eyes--his eyes were just like Nebula's; glowing brightly. Although his eyes were a startling shade of emerald green.

He seemed to look directly at her but right through her at the same time. Nebula could see his nostrils flare a bit and she knew he smelled her just as strongly as she smelled him. He smelled of days of sweat, pine, leather, and burning herbs. It wasn't a particularly bad scent, just unfavorable.

Nebula didn't realize she was holding her breath until he walked right around the boundaries his eyes following where he was looking right past her.

She knew he was trying to catch a something from her, but how could he? He will just spin around in circles and never finding her unless Nebula opted to take down her barriers. The male shook his head and rejoined his group who watched him intently. Clearly, he was a sort of leader, with how incarnate his armor was than the rest. His other hand came out of his cloak, something tied around his wrist, a sort of charm--there was no hand, but a stump. 

Nebula cringed.

Nebula couldn't say she was going to be sick given the torture she endured, but she felt a certain amount of intrigue.

*~*~*

They set up their camp just inches away from her boundaries which made Nebula tremble with fright, what if they were not friendly? They looked normal enough to her. How would they react to her anyways?

Maybe they'd be friendly...they looked sort of normal. They didn't really socialize with each other, it was as if each man to his own, especially the tall redhead. He had a blank (slightly formidable--really formidable), expression on his face, staring off into the distance but right in her general direction, Nebula shuddered.

No use staying outside in the cold watching people who will never see her should she will it.

Nebula retreated (more like limped) back into the warmth of her worn tent. She started shedding her clothing, she probably stank and that dress was not fit for wear, even though, admittedly, she liked it. It grew on her, as a pimple would. Nebula mentally laughed at her figure of speech. 

She conjured a basin and dropped a few drops of water from her flask, waving her wand and filling up the basin, heating the water.

She got in and sighed in relief, the use of magic taxes her energy greatly, the pain is almost chronic sometimes.

 

With a cloth wrapped around her hair and a towel around her torso, Nebula inched outside. The little chill was not deterring her intrigue from the...men. She studied each of them, all with varying face shapes, but usually slim, some with strong jaws, but each extremely handsome in their own right. But none compare to the redhead who sat like the lone leader of the pack.

The leader, who had his eyes closed, snapped his eyes open, his eyes shining so bright they reminded Nebula of a cat. He jumped quietly and efficiently to his feet. The rest stirred and soon, after looking at their leader, jumped into action, silently and efficiently, just like the leader who did not have two hands.

A twig snapped. Nebula turned around and there was a huge...beast, almost as tall as the shortest of them and as wide as an old tree trunk with glowing red eyes and matted black fur, spotted with patches and scars. Nebula was so in shock that she almost screamed when it jumped above her barrier, paying her no mind but snarling and the men.

Nebula dropped to the ground, shivering with fright as she watched the redhead, with the help of two more men take on the beast with such skill that it almost mesmerized the terror out of her. While the rest blocked the animal's path with skillful grace, the redhead expertly wielded his sword with the intent to kill. His face was a terrifying mask of hate and fury. In less than five minutes, the beast was dead and the redhead was growling orders, wiping his sword on the fur of the beast.

Soon, the camp was packed and they were heading away from the sight, they were not enemies. That much Nebula deduced because the beast they felled seemed to be from the same part as the species she had an 'encounter' with. They had a mutual enemy. Nebula hurried back into her tent and put on a top, magically modifying it into a replica of the previous dress she had on her. If this was the dress she showed up with, then it was obviously meant for this land. She didn't just land here with no purpose.

Perhaps they could have a mutual goal too;  _the dark matter._

*~*~*

Soon, Nebula was ready as ever, dressed in sky blue, her hair flowing down her back and a pink honeysuckle tucked in her hair, to appease her appearance to them. With her satchel at her hip, in it the tent and everything she owned, Nebula took down the barriers and followed the general direction of where the scouts went.

It would probably be a long time before she caught up with them but Nebula didn't feel like hurrying with her injuries, the exhaustion from using her magic taxing her greatly making her sway with movement. Sometimes she would be in such agony that she would have to lean against the trees every once in a while. Using magic to make her stronger would rain her until eventually, she would waste away. That is not what Nebula wanted. She wanted to survive.

Soon her stomach was gnawing itself and Nebula had no choice but to scavenge for edible berries, and setting traps when the rabbits slowly ran out.

It was her luck that the rabbit had hopped straight into her trap, otherwise, she might have been desperate enough to eat it raw had it come any later, or, horrible to think about, not come at all.

She managed to skin the rabbit, setting the fur aside and light a fire to cook her catch. After she cleaned the meat, she set a pot with boiling water and threw the meat in, the idea of eating boiled rabbit, at the moment was blessed. But it took two hours for the meat to get tender, and Nebula forced herself to sate her hunger a bit longer to fry the damn rabbit.

This was taking way to long... _finally_.

She tried not to eat the rabbit too quickly. She picked at it, eating bite sizes as she walked along the path, burying the bones and after she was done and continuing her journey.

 *~*~*~*

It would be two more days before Nebula finally caught a glimpse of open land with any trace of human settlement. But it was less than savory. Huts and little houses burned to the ground with nothing to their name and it looked fresh too... _smelled really strong_...

Did the scout group do that? No, they couldn't have. The had a mutual enemy, despite their scary appearance, they didn't seem evil. No, it couldn't have been. She could see corpses littered about, burned to a crisp. Random entrails dirtied the roads and the stench... _Merlin, the stench._

The sound of a sharp blade unsheathing sounded so loud it raised the hairs on her arm and the side of the blade pressed against her throat. Nebula stepped back, bumping into a rock hard wall that she was sure was made of steel. Nebula could feel the blade cut into the soft skin of her throat and she felt a drop trickle down into her cleavage. Her heart was beating frantically and the familiar scent of weathered pine, steel and leather hit her nose.

"You have been following us, why?" a deep voice rumbled in her ear. It was old but young, deep but silvery...that voice was like heaven. Nebula trembled because despite how pleasing the voice sounded, the prick of the blae on her throat dominated her senses more.

But Nebula was so scared that she couldn't utter a word until the blade pressed ever so slightly harder. The voice like heaven didn't have the patience, it seemed.

"I-I don't know-- I hadn't realized I had been following you," the breeze picked up and tresses of red flew in her view. So she _had finally_ caught up with them, or maybe they had allowed her to catch up to them, the latter seemed more believable. Playing dumb was her best option for people with blades and weapons. Besides, playing dumb was one of her many talents. It was one of the reasons why she was not accepted into the Department of Mysteries because they thought she was as dumb as her false reputation was.

"Lies." he could detect a lie like a hound can detect fear, and it made Nebula nervous. Instead, she schooled her face. She was in Slytherin for Merlin's sake! She could weave a lie as easily as she could make a braid in her hair. But lying to these people made her nervous. They were a force greater than her. It was worth a shot though.

"It's not lies," Nebula said defensively. Half of it was true. Halfway through this ordeal, she completely forgot about them. She was so preoccupied with surviving, it hadn't crossed her mind.

"Then why are you here?"

"Am I not allowed to be here?" Nebula asked cheekily but the pressing blade on her throat made her fix her words, "I am looking for something."

"And what would that be?" He was so close, she could feel his warm breath on her too-sensitive ears.

"I am not sure yet, but I'll know when I find it," Nebula admitted finally, she didn't really gain anything from lying about that.

"You cannot seek that which you don't know of," the man hissed. "Get down on your knees," A heavy hands forced her to her knees while a foot pressed down on the hollow of her knee, making her cry out in pain. Her injuries were still fresh. But the man didn't seem to care.

"Get down on your knees,"

 _Kinky,_ a humorous voice in her head thought cheekily. To Nebula's utter horror, she could feel a smirk en route to her face. Nebula forced her self to think of Marianne's nasally voice and face and cringed. That erased the smile on her face quickly enough.

Heavy hands forced her down while a foot pressed down on the hollow of her knee, making her cry out in pain. Her injuries were still fresh. But the man didn't seem to care.

"You don't understand," Nebula said defensively, cursing her voice for cracking, "it's important that I find it because then it might cause problems where I am from."

_Stop talking, you idiot!_

"And where are you from?" the same man asked, after a long pause following her plea.

Nebula paused, should she tell--no they wouldn't believe her, the safest bet is that she tells them it's an unexplored bit of land; "England," she blurted.

_Make your stupid self-comfortable why don't you?_

 There was a pause and Nebula sensed some movement.

"Where is that?"

"It's really far from here, on the other side of the continent. Not many know about it," Nebula blabbered. There was a pretty good chance he didn't know. She was better safe than sorry. Besides. She can remember her own lies. Maybe.

Nebula has yet to face him and he has yet to take that blade away from her throat, at first the blade was an irritable pinch but now she can _really_ feel it.

"Are there more elves there?"

"Elves?" Nebula echoed, like house elves, they were here too? Delightful. _Not._ She hated those creatures. She hated the pity she felt for them. They were always so hunched and they were all so terribly abused. Despite their new-found rights, thanks to Hermione Granger-Weasley, they did not take advantage of them. It was like they _wanted_ to be treated horribly. 

"You are an elf are you not?" the man said, with a hint of mockery in his tone. Nebula had to think fast, was she an elf? What did that mean? He didn't say _house_ elf, just elf. The last time she checked she wasn't three feet with a wrinkled body and pointy, bat-like ears. Perhaps he was one too, she had, after all, noticed pointy ears on him and the rest of the scouts, the same as hers ( theirs was a bit more pointy).

"Yes?"

"You seem unsure," and deeper the blade goes. 

"Well, we don't call ourselves _elves,_ we call ourselves--" _think of a word, quick_ "-- _être vivant"_

That french Lyra had taught her really did pay off.

"Then what type of  _être vivant_ are you?" he asked testily, his pronunciation stumbling on that last bit.

"Type?" Nebula asked incredulously, "We are all one type."

A pause and then foreign language was being spoken softly around her. What did they mean by type? The question seemed rather racist to Nebula.

"Get up," he commanded roughly, moving the blade away from her throat and grabbing her by her arm, pulling her up roughly but with ease. Nebula turned to face him and she was right, it was the redhead. But she had to crane her neck up to look at him. He. was taller up close, and the word is not used lightly. He was even more beautiful up close, she could see golden freckles in his green eyes.

She glared at him. 

*~*~*~*

Nebula's wrists were tied together with some rope that was heavily chafing her wrists due to the insistent tugging as they led her. To add to her ever-increasing list of miseries, she was blindfolded and she couldn't really depend on her hearing because they were so silent when they walked and none of them really talked. The only thing that assured her of their presence was the tugging.

The only reason she was sure they stopped because they finally noticed that she had been injured (or maybe they knew but they were just sadists), and that she was dragging them along because she was limping. 

"Sit," she heard the redhead command, pushing her shoulder, gentler this time. Nebula almost cried as she bent her knees but to her pleasant surprise, a log was underneath her. She heard some rustling and movement and for a long time, Nebula wallowed in misery as she contemplated on how much longer she had until she starved to death or die because of lack of hydration.

She hadn't felt anyone come until she felt two fingers on her chin gently lifting her head up.

"Open," this was a gentler command, not the redhead. Nebula opened her mouth and Nebula almost burst into tears as the cool water ran from the source to her hot, dry mouth.

He stopped too soon, unfortunately. But he told her to open her mouth again and Nebula did, and he fed her beef jerky and bread. It was a portion enough to sate her desperate hunger but not enough to actually fulfill her. Then he gave her another mouthful of water.

"Sleep," the man commanded.

Nebula was all too glad to comply. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Criticism of any sort is accepted with the exception of rudeness and aggressiveness.


	8. Chapter 7: The long path to the unknown.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula is taken with Noldorin scouts on a long journey, and not to their homeland. She was almost so close.

When Nebula woke up the next morning, she felt so relaxed that it was hard not to feel giddy.

Wait--why was she not limping anymore? Her thighs didn't chaff and her ribs felt fine, literally. She could breathe normally... what had happened to her? She desperately wanted to ask but felt that questions like these would be unwelcome so Nebula stayed silent. They walked for a really long while, without stop, that even Nebula's feet were starting to ache beyond a dull ache, edging more on chronic pain. Just when she thought her misery was over. 

Nebula wasn't really the one for activity, until now. She was thin as a waif. But now, she had curves that she always wished she had but never did. She still had a hard time getting over the fact that she was suddenly what she wanted to be. Nebula even walked differently, instead of the hunched shoulders with the weight of the books on her back, her shoulders were pushed back, her chin in the air. Even her hips swayed with movement, she was aware because they kept brushing her forearms. They never did that before. Nebula was scared to look down now, should she see a normal, woman's body instead of the body of a twelve-year-old girl she'd always had. Thank goodness for her blindfold.

Nebula forced herself to keep on walking until they all stopped, she knew mainly because of the collision to a metal-clad back which hurt her nose quite painfully.

"Ai," she hissed indignantly but was quickly silenced with a sharp ' _silence'_.

"They are close," she heard someone say quietly.

"We will continue, they cannot surprise us now that we are aware of them," it was the redhead.

A sound, familiar to the one she heard before her unexpected torture sounded in her ears and for a moment the world around Nebula started to spin and she almost fell to the ground. The sound brought back terrible memories, and her hand trailed to where her wand was (hopefully) stealthily peeking out of her satchel. Her breathing escalated and she tried to focus on what she had seen before, how only three people skillfully took down the great mutt. It was her only assurance that she _might_ be safe.

If it was a big group, would the scouts be able to take them down? Would they even bother to protect her? Impending thoughts dawned on her. Maybe she should go over her rights as a prisoner with them. _Protect me, feed me, if I am hurt, heal me, that sort of thing._..

The blindfold was taken away from her eyes and Nebula had to blink away from the sudden light, her eyes were met with green ones, redhead.

He turned and marched to the head of the group his good hand casually on the head of his sword. The group had formed a circle around her, each of them towering over her, their powerful limbs taking long strides that Nebula hurried to catch on with. If Nebula thought she was short before, she knew now she was. Some were only a mere half-head taller than her, but that did not stop from another two feet of pure skill, muscle, and efficiency to tower above her. She never felt so safe, and she was glad, they would protect her, their ' _undecided prisoner_ '.

Thankfully, for the duration of the time in the sunlight, nothing happened. But the true action had happened just before the sun set over the horizon. Arrows started flying from sources that Nebula couldn't see, but she was pulled underneath a shield. The redhead had saved her. Nebula pulled her arm out in front of her out of instinct and turned her face away, her nose pressed against the chest of his armor.  

"When I give the order, run," he hissed in her ear, shouting orders in a strange language that she had heard been used before amongst the group.

Nebula wanted to protest and say that she could fight but felt that he would only laugh her off. Given that he is the moody beast he is, would probably smack her away. Besides, Nebula didn't want to give away her cover should they see her as a threat so she swallowed thickly and nodded. 

"Now?" she whimpered.

"Wait," the shower of arrows came down a bit harder before it slowed and then stopped.  A shrill shriek sounded and many beasts of the dark showed, many similar to the ones who tormented her, and only a few like the mutt. 

"Go yonder into the trees, have this with you."

 _Yonder,_ Nebula almost snorted had it not been for the seriousness of the situation. No one used that word anymore.

He handed her a dagger and pushed her into the direction of the trees. Nebula griped the dagger hard and ran into the cover of the trees.

Nebula could make out the true heroes from the evil ones. The posture of all fifteen men was tall, proud, and graceful. The evil ones used brute, almost clumsy force, but it was just as deadly, just like the fifteens' way of fighting, albeit largely different. A twig snapped behind her and Nebula watched as the familiar glowing, cat-like eyes inched towards her, Nebula gripped the dagger in her weak hand but pulled out her wand in the other hand. 

" _Stupefy_!" She shrieked, the red blast hit the creature and the creature, thrown off its feet, slammed into a tree trunk, shaking the entire earth beneath her as it crumpled to the ground. Nebula ran over to it and stabbed it multiple times with a dagger, the creature gave off an occasional grunt but finally, it was silenced and Nebula was sprinkled with its black blood. She was heaving and sobbing.

Nebula yanked back the dagger and crawled away, staring at the creature with large eyes, a sense of triumph festering within her. A desire for vengeance for what they have done to her sparked within Nebula. Although, for now, she was satisfied.

She could still here blades clashing, and many shrieks, shouts, and snarls from the battle that is taking place. Nebula quietly crawled behind a bush and stared at the scene with pulsing awe and horror at the same time. She could make out the redhead, fighting more efficiently than some of his soldiers for someone with a missing hand. For someone so tall, he was just as graceful as any of his scout group, even more so and Nebula was impressed.

She used to have a friend at Hogwarts (who moved to _Beauxbatons_ later on) who was so tall, he would hunch his shoulders to appear smaller (not that it did anything). His step was heavy and his posture was bad, his footing was awful and he had clumsy hands. Nebula had to admit, that's sort of what she expected of tall people, ever since her short but lovely friendship with that boy. She was so impressed, she almost felt bad for being so judgmental.

It wasn't long before the last beast was felled and the scout group, all fifteen of them, wiped their blades on the grass. Each of them began grabbing the limbs of the creatures and piling them up with surprising strength. Sometimes needing two for help with the particularly large beasts. She didn't see who set the fire but soon a great fire almost engulfed her vision, the stench and heat irritating her senses greatly.  

Nebula thought now was a good time to go back to the group, after all, she wasn't going to leave them anytime soon. As though sensing her, the redhead turned and looked at her. His green eyes glowing eerily in the firelight--all of him seemed to glow eerily in the firelight.

She stumbled to her feet and walked out of the tree shade, watching him wearily. There was no use hiding from him.

"You did not escape," he noted dryly.

"Well, I wouldn't survive too long on my own," Nebula finally admitted. She couldn't read the bloke very well but she could tell that he was unimpressed with her admission. _No shame in admitting that_ , Nebula told herself.

"You really are useless," he mused, Nebula gave him an indignant glare. He did not know even half of it. 

He roughly grabbed her wrists and tied them together so fast that Nebula had to blink to process it. 

"What?" she almost yelped, "Why? I didn't run away--you can trust me," he plucked the dagger from her hands. He glared at her.

"After you kill, you clean your blade, so it is smooth when you unsheathe it from it's scabbard," he told her, tapping her forehead harshly with the butt of the dagger, making Nebula yank her head back and glare at him.

"You would be surprised how useful I can be," Nebula said to his large, retreating figure. The redhead paused, turning to look at her, assessing her body, from head to toe.

"Do enlighten me," he said sarcastically.

"Just give me something and I'll do it," Nebula said with determination.

"We shall see."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editors, it's your time to shine. Message me if you are interested.


	9. Chapter 8: Confrontation of diversity.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they continue on, they are confronted with many adversaries, many of which are the feuds of the races. But it transforms into something beautiful that disregards what others think.  
> Warning: Mild racism, mild sexism.

They walked on for _days,_ without stop for the occasional rest. Nebula surprisingly enough did not sleep much. But she did notice the majority of them, when they sat down, just stared off into space, with wide, unblinking eyes. No one seemed fazed by that. But to Nebula, it was so uncanny and creepy, that Nebula had to turn away from the group sometimes to keep her emotions in check and convince herself that they are not dead because it seemed normal and she didn't understand a thing about this world.

Nebula yanked back a shudder of disgust and horror as she watched the limp, but the somewhat tense figure of a scout with brilliant dark hair stare of into space, unblinking with somewhat misty eyes. He was alive.

Nebula lay down for a while thinking about how things could have been, how in order to restore honor to her family (just her mother, really) name, she had to chase something that doesn't physically exist. Now that Nebula had the time to think about it, she never took that conscious decision. It felt as though it was decided for her. This made Nebula shudder at possibilities of what that might make her do in the future. Yet it all felt so natural... _like instinct._

What if she is chasing after the wrong...matter? That thought made her want to strangle herself with that nuisance she has for hair (the bloody thing grew back the next day after she cut it). The only thing that gave her a meager bit of assurance that she has not completely misguided was the several occasions on which she got that feeling again and again. The same feeling she got when she was at the ministry and during her encounter with those creatures. 

Nebula closed her eyes, just for a nap-- _she yawned..._

*~*~*~*

Nebula felt someone nudge her with their boot, she shook them away with a whine. Won't they just let her sleep? It hasn't been long, this was a particularly short rest in broad daylight, surely they would allow her to sleep _just a bit more..._

Another nudge.

"What--" Nebula let out a shuddering yawn as she turned over on her back to look up at the disturbance. The redhead was staring at her with a somewhat perplexed expression, stepping back. It was the first time she had seen anything on his face other than derision, anger, or blankness. It was somewhat startling.

"Do you always sleep like that?" the question felt better suited for a child. It was _that_ ridiculous. 

"What--yes of course I do, that's how any normal person does," she informed him dryly, glaring at him.

"But you are an elf, elves do not sleep with their eyes closed," he said, a hint of confusion in his tone. Nebula rolled her eyes at him, aware of how dangerous that could be for her. 

"Well where I am from, we do. Now, I'll thank you for letting me sleep in peace," Nebula said harshly, wrapping her cloak tighter around her and nestling into the ground.

She didn't hear his footsteps for a moment, but then she felt him turn on her heel and walk away. She heard quiet murmuring, Nebula forced herself to count the lights she saw in her eyes before she finally fell asleep again.

The next time she woke up, they were taking apart the camp and continuing. This time, the rope was tugged by the redhead. 

She could hear a few...English phrases. Something about meeting a group of people, they were expected? Was she a burden? she sure hoped not, she tried to be discreet as much as possible; helping with the skinning of whatever animals they caught, making a flame (sneakily with her wand), and just trying to contribute as much as possible, sometimes even making traps with a few of the scouts. 

Nebula was unsure if they thought of English as the same language. What if it had a different name but was the same? What if they called a rose _hanky-panky_? The thought made her giggle out loud. The redhead turned towards her, his eyebrows raised in bemusement. Nebula flushed at being caught and cleared her throat haughtily, giving him a rebellious look. The redhead gave her an unimpressed look and turned away.

 _A rose, by any other name, would still smell as sweet_. It was a phrase from a muggle book she had picked up from the trash once. It was all complicated English but this particular phrase was stuck in her mind. It seemed fitting now.

 

In just a few days they reached what looked like civilization and Nebula was never so happy to see another person's face instead of the same fifteen she saw every single day for the past what--three months maybe?

But they reached a really warm land, with many rivers and exotic plants and trees. In fact, Nebula had to shed of her cloak and many scouts shed pieces of clothing and armor too. It was alarming how quickly the weather and the scenery changed. it was as if they crossed an invisible border into another, completely different world. 

_This place just seems to keep getting weirder and weirder._

They reached a forest, filled with many silver birches, tall willows, and many other deciduous trees. It wasn't warm enough to be considered of exotic nature, but it was warm enough that if Nebula was still back in her world, she would wear short sleeves.

But there were people living there, or perhaps waiting for them, or perhaps both. There were another group of...elves. They were a replica of the rest of Nebula's group, except, they were blue instead of red. Nebula couldn't decide which was more threatening, the blue or the red. 

"Cousin-mine," an amiable voice sounded. It was deep and warm, and it made Nebula's insides fuzzy.  

"My Prince," the redhead, to Nebula's spluttering surprise, made to bow. Nebula wasn't sure why that surprised her. Perhaps it was because of his powerful, ever-present masculinity, she would have thought he was above all else, but apparently not. Just before his knee touched the ground, two hands gently grabbed him and pulled him up. When the redhead stood up again, it was like he was unfolding himself. He was rather impressive.

A man, tall (but not as tall as the redhead) stood in front of the redhead. His eyes were wide and gray, his hair black like the depth of an iris with two, thick braids lying on his chest with stark gold woven into the braids. A circlet adorned his head and Nebula immediately understood his station, though he was not wearing a crown, it was obvious he was immediate royalty. 

"Maedhros please, you bow to no one, here, we are friends!" the man said happily, clapping the redhead's back, "Please, rest, there are huts that the natives have spared us graciously!"

"My gratitude to you--" ' _Maedhros_ ', the redhead, began but the black haired one cut him off.

"O drop the formality, we are equals for goodness sake," the man said jovially. Although his eyes were wide and his pupils were small, as though he drank a large amount of strong coffee (bitter concoctions that muggles drank that gave them energy, and Nebula was guilty of drinking it on particularly tiresome days), his movements were eccentric and slightly wild.

With a wave of his hand (she noticed a rather ornately designed ring on his forefinger that looked more expensive than the Minister of Magic's salary) a man, not of any of the groups that she was familiar with, wearing brown leggings and a grey tunic came forward, bowing his head. His hair was short and curly, he had a beard instead of the clean-shaven faces she was used to. He didn't have pointed ears either!

The human was just as she expected. He was rugged, perhaps more masculine than the elves but he was relatively short in comparison, possibly shorter than her. 

 _He was human,_ Nebula thought. He was _human...human_.

The word rang in her head and she couldn't help but hold back her euphoria. Good lord--but wait, how would he react to her? Was there a racial barrier, as though he was a muggle and they were the wizards? It was obvious there was. The elves didn't seem to acknowledge his presence. It was as though he was inferior. A servant...

Nebula mentally slapped herself, how could she think something like that? Something so disgustingly racist? Wasn't it because of that did her family's name go down the drain? Nebula wanted to shake her head but forced herself to check her emotions, should she appear stupid or crazy. The two talked for a moment before the prince turned his hawk-like eyes on Nebula. His hair was so long, it reached his knees, which, in comparison to other males, was quite long. 

"Ahh...and who might you be, little one?" the man asked politely, as though asking directions from a stranger. Nebula wrinkled her nose in distaste at the name he has given her _. 'Little one_ ', Nebula almost scoffed with incredulity. She'll have him know, back in her world, she was a perfect average for an English female. 

"Nebula Orion, your Grace," Nebula said truthfully. She didn't know how to address him so she went for what was the safest. 

The man looked at her for a moment as though not comprehending. He did not correct her on the presumed use of his title so Nebula felt that she was safe. 

"What does it mean in your language?" at least he assumed she was not from here, he was not wrong. 

"I'm not sure, but I am named after a space cloud, your Grace," Nebula blurted, shifting nervously. If she could dig up a whole and bury herself in it, that would be great. Her father's family, according to Lyra, had a long history of people named after stars, galaxies, and constellations. The most she would ever divulge to Nebula about her extended family. Nebula just got stuck with something that wasn't a star, a constellation or a galaxy.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked slowly. He blinked his pale, owlish eyes at Nebula. The action itself was unnerving because his eyes _glowed._

"The bright colors that you see in the far sky? That's a _Nebula,_ " Nebula said awkwardly as she felt all the eyes on her. This was getting even more awkward than that time in her second year... _sweet Merlin_.

"Interesting, Nebula-Orion, where do you come from?" she could tell he didn't understand anything of what she said and decided not to dwell on it for the sake of confusion. Nebula was glad. She didn't feel like explaining that awkward familial tradition.

 _Trust me, if I had the choice, I'd be named anything other than that,_ Nebula thought irritably.

"England, your grace,"

"I beg your pardon, where is that?" his thick brows furrowed.

"Well, I'm not sure how to tell you, it's more of an island, South-East of the ocean," her mouth babbled on without her explicit permission. Where did she come up with that answer? She had tried to get the general direction of where they were headed but it was all so lost and perplexing.

"How come it has never been heard of?" the man asked now, his smile full on with teeth. He clearly didn't believe her. Nebula wouldn't believe herself either.

"We like to be secretive, we do not show ourselves and we do not have many relations with the people from the outside," Nebula said slowly. 

"It must have been a huge step, sending a female outside of their lands, then, is it not?" Nebula almost bristled but just smiled. Female? _Ooh_ , she could just go over the list of females who made a difference in her world... _the way_ he said that. That condescending way... _ooh_.

"Colossal, your grace. Though it is a rather dire case," Nebula worded her words quite carefully.

"Oh, and what may that dire case be?" he inquired politely. What was his name?

"Well, we are not sure yet, I am here to explore it further, but so far, I haven't made much progress, your Grace," Nebula admitted.

"I can imagine," he gave her a sarcastic smile. Nebula tried not to inhale with annoyance. "Can you describe it then?"

"Well, it's sort of like a dark matter that everyone feels but no one can see, and it is causing quite the dispute. We sourced it till here. I am here to figure it out, and if I can, find out how to stop it."

"And this entire mission, rests on your shoulders?" there was a prominent hint of doubt in his tone. 

Nebula gave him a somewhat bitter smile, "Regrettably."

"As a form of punishment?"

"No, nothing like that," Nebula said dryly, trying hard to convey the message, _'please, no more questions'_.

Thankfully he understood that and plastered a toothy smile on his  ~~handsome~~  beautiful face. Either he understood the unspoken message or he lost interest and something told her he was not the understanding type.

"You must be tired from your journey, please, allow yourself some rest."

"Gracious," Nebula said, giving him a smile as he took her hand and led her towards the denser area of the camp.

*~*~*~*

 Surprisingly enough, there were human females, though none of them were striking in comparison to the male elves. They were still quite pretty by Nebula's standards. They fawned over her white hair and her eyes and just her beauty in general. Nebula would lie if she said she didn't like the attention. They poured her a sizzling bath with lavender salts and oils that cleaned all the grime, dirt and three months of filth away, scrubbing her skin red raw with surprising thoroughness.

They then took Nebula's dress away and gave her a long white dress that was more fit for the climate, even if it was a bit brazen. With a low, v-neck cut that strained around her breasts and showed a generous portion of her perky cleavage, but it was nothing to fuss about. In fact, some females walked with their bare breasts hanging out, in the hut, of course. When they would go outside they would put their tunics back on. The dress was backless and flared at the hips, the material was soft and nice to feel it. 

They then adorned her feet with sandals and put her hair up in braids and buns held up by flowers. How they managed it was beyond Nebula, but really, she wasn't complaining. She never felt more pampered and she showed them gratitude by telling them stories (slightly modified) about her life that were quite comedic.

They were sweet and kind.

"The Prince has invited you," a little girl said playing with a flower she was holding, "to eat with him, you have to look good because he looks good too."

The little girl blushed when Nebula laughed, the cheeky little girl.

"Do I look good now?" Nebula asked, standing on her full height and twirling. The little girl frowned with concentration as she observed Nebula.

"Even better than him," Nebula couldn't stop giggling. 

"You know what, I am more excited about the food," Nebula grinned at the little girl. Already, the little girl was showing the promise of beauty. The girl giggled with delight.

*~*~*

A scout from the fifteen she was with led her to the bonfire next to the king where the hearty smell of roast wafted in the air. 

She was led to sit across from the Prince and the redhead, who were both in deep discussion. Some of the discussion faltered for a moment at her presence before starting again. They didn't seem particularly interested in Nebula. Nebula didn't mind. She'd rather not be drilled by them. They were quite tedious and unaccepting. Far too cynical for Nebula's tastes.

The redhead turned away from the discussion to look at her, his green eyes scorching in the firelight. It was nighttime and the sky was clear, Nebula noticed. 

"Ahh, so here is the...explorer," the prince said, opening his arms in welcome as he gestured around him. The jib was not lost on anyone and Nebula mentally rolled her eyes. "The roast will be ready in a moment, but please, tell us more about yourself."

That was _not_ an invitation.

"In what sense, your highness?" Nebula asked, obeying his request/command. There was a lot to speak about and Nebula didn't know where to start.

"Do you have a standing, in your land?" 

Nebula racked her brain for something, oh she could totally use this for her benefit.

"I am a close adviser and niece to the Queen, your Grace."

"Queen?" he was asking her to elaborate. Ha, he will get the shock of his life.

"Our monarch is a Queen, your Grace," he seemed genuinely shocked by this. As did the others about him.

"There is no king?"

"There is a prince who is married to the Queen, though it is the Queen who holds true power, your Grace," Nebula said, enjoying this. They would taste a real bite of culture shock here.

"Did she not see fit to send an ambassador here, instead of an adviser, perhaps?" he asked politely, insult in his words, but Nebula smiled it away.

"These are not our ways. We must qualify for more than one position to earn a seat in Council of Her Royal Highness, your Grace. We were not...aware that others lived around us. No offense, but because we are so secretive you see. She sent me, as her adviser and scribe. Also because I have passed...certain qualifications for this mission," if the redhead rolled his eyes, the Prince did not notice. 

"For what purpose, other than finding out more of this...matter you speak of, are you here?"

"Nothing else that I know of, sir." Nebula said honestly. If only she could know her _actual_ purpose in this awful world.

The prince smiled and Nebula looked into the distance, watching the dance happen. Bongos, tambourines, mandolins, and many other instruments played a catchy beat. Many people started joining in, just the humans though, elves just watched and occasionally laughed. There was certainly a prominent divide, despite the friendly relations, as though the elves were too high in standing to join in this. 

Soon, the humans surrounded a large bonfire and Nebula was so intrigued that she had to look back at the king to see if he was going to ask her any more questions but he didn't, he was talking to someone else. Nebula stood up and slowly walked towards the bonfire, watching them dance. It was entrancing. It was like something from the '50s swing-dance had met the African tribal dance; quick and Spinney, with bare feet. Nebula slowly took off her sandals and an adolescent girl took her hand, inviting her with her smile.

Nebula was a loser for these festivities. She always liked dancing.

"Join?" the girl asked. Nebula nodded, and the girl pulled her into the circle, showing her a quick few steps. Soon, Nebula was following the incarnate movements, even adding a few of her own.

It was not long before Nebula was laughing and twirling from one move to the next, following movements, and clapping and just feeling really happy for the first time in so long. All her worries forgotten. All the humans seemed to cheer her on and accept her, even dance with her. Oh, how it made her happy. Her hair slipped out of it's weak, flowery confines but Nebula didn't care. It was better that way. Everything was free. Even if it was for that little moment in life.

The night continued, but no one stopped dancing, instead, more people joined in. The elves simply stood and watched on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am hesitant about the use of some words, but know that each word I use such as 'exotic' and such others is intentional. If you disregard the silmarils, Tolkien's fundamental reason for his wars is race, ideology about supremacy, domination, etc...not too different from our world.


	10. Chapter 9: Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they pause their journey in the camp of humans and elves, Nebula gets to know more about the world she lives in.

It was with great reluctance that the redhead paused his travel to break camp, the prince had explicitly ordered him to it and she figured the redhead was not about to refuse him, given his great importance. If anything, Nebula had to admit, she did not expect the prince to be--well-- a prince. Even though he was more socially and diplomatically adept than the redhead (she didn't really know much about him except that he was a brooding beast) he had an air of more...ease than the redhead. Perhaps the redhead was a war general and not just a head-of-scouts person. 

There wasn't a large bonfire for the next few nights as the first time she arrived though they were just as lively, and Nebula only participated in one or two dances when she felt up to it. Nebula was painfully aware of Maedhros's grave disapproval of her joining the festivities held by the humans, but Nebula did not care. He hadn't spoken to her about it.  Nebula didn't feel the need to confront him about something that she enjoyed and may possibly be restricted from.

She had learned his name through the many times the scouts/soldiers would come up to him, addressing him as "Milord Maedhros"

She learned many things from the women of the tribe, like how to make soap out of animal fat and scented flowers, how to wash her laundry, and embarrassingly enough, how to deal with her monthly blood flow, after Nebula had woken in a puddle of her own blood and almost screamed until (thank Merlin for that) one of the prettier maids had walked in on her, with a basket of dirty laundry in her arms.

"I never knew that elves bled" the maid said thoughtfully. 

"Really?" Nebula said, looking genuinely surprised, it was part of the reproductive process but she wasn't sure that the maid knew that. The maid spoke of periods as though they were something to be ashamed of (they aren't until they start flowing down your leg), her ignorance of this particular subject was evident, though Nebula knew that the maid was aware it had a link to guaranteed child-bearing.

"Well..."the maid trailed of uncertainly "I'v never known"

"Tell me more of what you know about elves" Nebula urged "I am curious of your knowledge, it is nothing to be ashamed of" she hastened to assure the hesitant maid.

"Well, elves are known for being taller, fairer, and wiser than all other races, the Eldars in particular" the maid, Meril, her name was, said slowly, as though stringing her words carefully.

"Eldars?" Miriam asked, "What are they?"

"Well, there are Eldars, and then there are elves. The Eldars are the ones who awoke when the world was young and new and answered the calls of the Valar to the West, to Valinor. They were the first beings to ever walk this Earth. There are some who lost their way and never made it to Valinor, and some did not answer the call at all. I am told it was a rather perilous journey, many died due to the evil of the Dark Lord, Morgoth" the maid said.

"Oh, how long ago was that?" Miriam asked.

The maid stared at her; "Do you not know? You are an elf, are you not, should you not know your own history better than I?"

"Well, I am not from around here, you see, our ways and history back home are very much different from the ways and history here. But I am not home, I am here, so I want to know more" Nebula said, patiently.

"Well, it was a long time ago, long before man walked this Earth. But elves and Eldars alike are immortal. They are undying."

"Did the elves here not go--to Valinor I mean?" Nebula asked curiously and the maid's face turned grave.

"They came back many years ago, in pursuit of what they had lost to the Dark Lord" Meril said "I must be precious for such a force to arrive to Middle Earth, and I can imagine the circumstances in which they came is less than savory, or so my father says"

Nebula didn't know why, but hearing about the history of the elves and the eldar instilled a deep sadness. Especially when Meril told her that they were immortal. If Nebula was truly an elf, then she would never die and the thought made her heart clench painfully tight. 

Immediately, her thoughts drifted to her mother. What if the time here was the same as the time there? If Nebula was successful in her quest, but it took her many centuries, her mother would be long gone then. 

Nebula did not want to stay here anymore and not for the first time today, and definitely not for the first time during her entire stay in this world, she regretted her decision.

"What about the history of your England that you speak of?" Meril asked curiously, leaving her laundry and sitting beside Nebula, watching the other woman with wide, curious eyes. 

 "Well, it is vastly different I can tell you that" Miriam spoke slowly. What had she learned about the many religions of the world? She distinctly remembered once reading a book, in one of the girls trunks back at Hogwarts. ' _The Holy Bible_ ' it read. Nebula had been hiding from the older girls at the time, and they had not thought of looking for her in the dorms. It was out of pure boredom that Nebula had snooped around the  Muggle girl's trunk.

She had read the first part, about the man who the God created, and how he had created a woman out out of his rib, and everything else in between, Nebula had stopped all the way when the serpent had tempted the woman into eating the forbidden fruit, which for that did the great God exile them from the Garden of Eden that the man and woman were born in, with the promise of many hardships they had to endure, especially the pain of child birth.

"Well, as History has it, there was once one person, who was God" Nebula Began.

"God?" Meril asked, frowning "As in, a deity, like Eru, or the Valar?"

"Well, like Eru" Nebula said, going for the singular sounding choice. "Anyways, he created this world, he created the planets and streams and he created an _Etre Vivant_ out of dirt, and then the animals, whom God let the man--Adam was his name, to give names to them."

"But then Adam grew lonely so God created a woman out of his rib, whom he named Eve. He told them that they can eat from any tree they wanted except  a particular tree. But then there was Satan, or the Devil. He was in the form of a serpent then, he tempted Eve into eating from the forbidden fruit, with the promise of knowledge to come. She shared the apple with Adam. The promises of the serpent were not empty, they gained knowledge which they should not have possessed, which tainted them and caused God to exile them."

"God told them they would suffer many hardships in life, including the pain of child birth, because they disobeyed him. He cursed the serpent to loose his legs, and glide on his stomach forever. From then on, the line of--elves, as you would call it began. But most, including Adam and Eve, succumbed to sickness of heart."

"If your God knew this would happen, why did he put the tree where they could see it?" Meril asked, not understanding.

"Because he didn't create slaves, he gave them the freedom to make decisions for their own, while they knew the consequences." Nebula said immediately. She had really thought on that book. 

"There is no man in your realm?" Meril asked, her eyes wide and slightly perturbed.

"Well--there is, they came later on. No one knows how or why, they just appeared. But they never live very long. Although they always have children. So that is good, I suppose" Nebula said, modifying the story to fit her purpose. it sounded like they made sense to her, so far, that is how the elves viewed the humans in this world, a temporary vessel.

She caught snippets of conversation from the elves, how they would not wed their beloved during such dark times, how the race of man are fickle and they die off in a shadow of the body they had once been during their prime glory. 

What a grim race the elves were.

 

*~*~*

They didn't stay too long, and Nebula couldn't shake off the feeling that they did not know what to do with her. She wouldn't blame them, she wouldn't know what to do with herself either.

Thankfully, their stay was long enough for Nebula to recover from her injuries, and slowly regain her strength through household chores that she helped around with, much to the surprise of the humans and the grave displeasure of the elves. 

One eve, the redhead, Maedhros, had approached her, his dark and brooding figure intimidating the human woman to enough to exit the scene, leaving Nebula with the that hulking elf. 

"We are to leave in three days, be ready by then. And do stop your frolicking with the humans, it is unbecoming"

"Is it?" Nebula muttered, glaring at his turned back. He froze and Nebula couldn't help but wince. The last thing she wanted to do was to anger the man--or elf, whatever; she had seen what he could do with a dagger and a sword.

"Is it?" he said, without turning to her, challenge in his icy voice "They are not worth your time, they are beneath you. It does not help you in your favor to fraternize with humans"

That was such a glaringly racist thing to say that Nebula recoiled from him as though she had been electrocuted, and she may as well have been. 

"That is a disgusting thing to say" Nebula said slowly "And far too judgmental. They welcome us with with hospitality and amiability and this is what you think of them?" Nebula asked, she wasn't angry, he was ignorant, so how could she be angry at him? Nebula just needed to understand why he is the way he is.

Maedhros turned to her, his green eyes flashing dangerously; "They are filthy, and they hide in the shadows--"

"I would hide too if a Dark Lord was terrorizing an entire continent" Nebula pointed out dryly and she spied a subtle flush to his cheeks.

"You do not understand, their glory is not great, they are weak, and they are without--"

"Certainly, but they are better companions than elves it seems." Nebula said dryly "I am afraid I must bid you a good day, I must get packing" Nebula said curtly, unable to take anymore of his baseless dismissal of humans.

*~*~*

Now that the elephant in the room has been acknowledged (what a strange saying the muggles used, quiet endearing too), a lot of the tension has cleared out between the travel parties of Lord Maedhros (though he was a Lord Commander, he was only addressed as Lord and sometimes Prince as he is the High King's direct nephew) and Nebula. After clarifying she wasn't a threat (it was not said but it was hinted at, she wasn't an immediate threat).

The began treating her with a little more courtesy, though none seemed particularly curious about her, or at least, curious enough to further inquire about her to her.They spoke in their own other language most of the time, and more often than not, it appeared as though they were talking about Nebula, if their glances towards her were anything to go by. 

They stopped tying her up, though they did keep watch over her and unfortunately, Nebula was convinced that they did not think her very bright. They gave her minimal chores to do and they spoke to her carefully and slowly (very directly too, unlike the sage way they spoke with to humans), even though they were completely capable of speaking normally.

Nebula wasn't the brightest person to ever exist, she wasn't the prettiest (Lord Maedhros, Prince Fingon, and a few other elves could stake that claim), but she sure wasn't stupid. She understood politics, people, and her spells like the back of her hand, she knew how to make people dance around or charge to her if she wanted. After all, she worked as an apprentice of Hermione Granger; who did not tolerate slow minds and dull personalities (which consequently Nebula excelled at imitating). Hermione Granger wanted the complete opposite of that, and Nebula also excelled at learning quickly, she was fast to understand and read people just like her mentor so that she may survive the Ministry's court of vipers. 

A group of skilled hunters and a Prince was nothing in comparison (though Nebula had the feeling she was overestimating her limited capabilities).

Nebula was bright enough to survive, to avoid being a pawn, but now that she had no resources on her, all she could do was helplessly observe on the sidelines as fate decided the next second for her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story will be rated 'M', meaning dark themes, adult content and the package, though I try not to use swearing as it grates on my nerves. Most of my works will be rated such.
> 
> Disclaimer: This work is based purely for personal, imaginative purposes; all personal, fan-based creativity is credited to their respective authors. Credit is where credit is due. No copyright infringement is needed.
> 
> ©2016 @SleepEatRead Corporation. All Rights Reserved.


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